


percocet pills (oxycodone)

by jjeuwi



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, angsty??, full nachaeng coming your way, minimal 2yeon, minimal jeongyeon, muse nayeon, photographer chaeng, roommate au!!, very angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 16:51:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10621080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjeuwi/pseuds/jjeuwi
Summary: its not the percocet pills that's slowly killing nayeon, its chaeyoungsomething like a slowburn love song but terribly painful





	

**Author's Note:**

> really great to read while listening to coldplay's x&y album  
> https://youtu.be/9DbUuDalfjM  
> (especially what if, fix you, x&y, a message, swallowed in the sea (!!)

—

Nayeon’s reaching.

She’s reaching when she says _maybe_ Chaeyoung likes her back even just a bit. Even a raindrop, or a speck of dust, maybe she likes her in that way that she does. She knows herself that it's a far fetched dream to be dreaming but she finds herself unknowingly trudging down that path. And it's like walking barefoot on spikes with nothing but miles of desert and the scorching, blazing sun.

“Nayeon?” there’s Chaeyoung from behind the lenses, signaling little hand movements to the left as Nayeon wakes from her daydreams, scooting slightly towards the desired direction, “Good. Now chin up a little.”

She’s a _little_ distracted because when she returns back to reality, she feels Chaeyoung’s cold fingers pressed under her chin, lifting it up to look at her. (And she's inches away). She's half expecting something to happen but Chaeyoung returns behind the lenses, telling her to stay just like that and that she's doing great before the shutters click and white flashes fill the scene. Nayeon’s on the leather red couch in the middle of their living room, a bouquet of red tulips and white daisies occupying her hands as her red smudged lips kiss them, her hair like a nest.

Chaeyoung’s finally decided she's satisfied with the outcome of today's shoot and thanks Nayeon for her time with a big smile, slipping her a few unworthy bucks. But Nayeon's not there for the money, she's there for Chaeyoung’s presence pheraps because this is the closest she'll ever get. She rejects the cash and tells her that it could go to their rent and bills instead, “Don't worry, we’ll get rich someday!” It’s been an ongoing strike between the two, and each time, Nayeon's ended up rejecting the cash, which sorta leaves Chaeyoung feeling guilty because Nayeon’s her muse for everything.

Chaeyoung doesn't understand where Nayeon’s sporadic niceness comes from because often times she's abrasive and blunt. But whenever it comes to down to her, she's always got the time and the money. Even going so far as to buying Chaeyoung's very much desired lenses she’d been saving up for months. (And Chaeyoung’s forever thankful).

 

Rooming with Chaeyoung was a big choice because Nayeon hates people and Nayeon often times loved to be alone. But since the novice photographer was all out of options, no roof under her head, Nayeon had willingly, _and selflessly for that fact,_ allowed her into her modern day, monotone apartment. (She's not sure whether she regrets that decision or not). But Chaeyoung’s nice and Chaeyoung brings home food despite barely getting by as a photographer. And Nayeon’s not so rich herself but she's a lot more well off than Chaeyoung is.

“Let’s watch a movie tonight.” Chaeyoung suggests and that brings light to Nayeon’s eyes because they never get to spend much time just basking in each other's presence, “My room?” It’s rare for Chaeyoung to offer up her room and Nayeon’s never had an interest to bother looking, curiosity wasn't her thing (although she's not so sure if that applies anymore).

They get situated atop Chaeyoung's bed that night, tucked away under her pure white sheets, mere centimeters apart. They’re watching a classic, _Goodfellas_ to be exact, and it’s so like Chaeyoung to pick a mob movie, in which Nayeon’s not interested at all. And that’s another thing to add to the list of not having things in common besides liking the same kind of taste in music and having Pulp Fiction as their favorite movie. But it’s sweet because it matches the way Chaeyoung thinks, the way she is. Therefore Nayeon doesn’t mind sitting it out with her just so she could see the girl point excitedly at the tv, exclaiming that this is her favorite part and that Nayeon should pay close attention (she doesn’t even allow for blinking).

Chaeyoung’s rambling about how it’s actually an adaptation of the book _Wiseguy_ by Nicholas Pileggi and that it’s based on a true story but every word that escapes her enters one ear and exits the other as Nayeon stares at those precious moving pink lips. And then a white stick separates them as Chaeyoung tucks an unlit cigarette between her teeth. Nayeon offers to light it up for her.

“Man, what I’d give to live a life as exciting as James Burke's.” she says, sighing through the smoke and Nayeon wants to scoot into her arms but she’s unsure of the consequences of that so she lays still. Chaeyoung glances at her, and it’s this stare that says a lot about her because there’s not an ounce of judgement in those abandoned eyes when she says, “What makes you happy?”

Nayeon’s courage fails her for the tenth time today which isn’t even surprising as she mutters out, “I don’t know.” (And we all know the true answer to that question). Chaeyoung pulls the cigarette from her mouth with her index finger and thumb before tucking it into Nayeon’s mouth. Nayeon doesn’t smoke, Nayeon’s never smoked. Sure she’s had a jab of pure bourbon or a sniff of cocaine but never a smoke because there’s nothing beautiful about inhaling your killer and letting them run loose. And it’s the other way around for Chaeyoung who enjoys nicotine and the feeling of burning in your lungs; like suffocation in it’s entirety.

“So we’re both lost then?” Chaeyoung says, watching wisps of the smoke rise and die mid-air. Nayeon shrugs and takes the cigarette between her first two fingers before laying her head on Chaeyoung’s shoulder, and that’s about as courageous she’ll ever be for the next few months or so.

And then there’s reciprocality as Chaeyoung moves her head so that it barely rests against Nayeon’s, just enough so that she wasn’t carrying all that weight. (Oh, but Nayeon is. And Nayeon’s carrying a weight much heavier than Chaeyoung can imagine). _Goodfellas_ is still playing on Chaeyoung’s VHS in a low quality sound barrier as they talk over the movie. And there’s this bittersweet feeling about it because Nayeon loves being in her bed, having her shoulder to lean on yet she doesn’t know firmly where Chaeyoung’s feelings stand.

Because all this time Nayeon’s been her muse for everything. And there’s no one else in this world she would dare share her space with apart from Chaeyoung.

“I don’t even know if I’m happy with my life anymore.” she says, wrapping an arm around Nayeon so that she’s pressed against the warmth of her body, and Nayeon just melts into that. There’s a hush and nothing but the sound of Henry Hill’s gun that fills the empty void neither Nayeon or Chaeyoung could seem to fill.

“I thought photography was your passion?” Nayeon watches the slow burning cigarette as it gets consumed by the fire, ashes piling up on Chaeyoung’s snowy sheets, “It used to be, but now it’s more like a chore and that isn’t what passion’s about.” Chaeyoung’s always right about these things, she’s got a way with sticking to reality unlike Nayeon who loves to daydream and run away from everything that scares her, like love, but somehow she can’t manage to get away from that.

 

Nayeon wakes up to the sound of _Goodfella’s_ soundtrack and the end credits rolling, still tucked away under Chaeyoung’s soft embrace. She pulls Nayeon closer to her as she mumbles something inaudible under her breath in her sleep. Chaeyoung smells like strawberries and smoke and it’s the sweetest combination Nayeon could ever find because it’s Chaeyoung, a mix of innocence and gruffness. And it’s the contradicting anomaly that makes her even more beautiful, even more enticing to Nayeon.

 

* * *

 

Jeongyeon shows up at the flat early noon and it’s just her and Nayeon on that red sofa, using 21 Jump Street as background noise from the tv while they’re getting stoned. Jeongyeon sorts out two lines of coke on the glass coffee table with her credit card, then handing Nayeon a rolled up dollar bill, “This is the really good stuff so make sure you don’t sneeze it out you fucking noob.”

It really hasn’t been long since Nayeon started coke and it’s only occasionally where she actually does a line with Jeongyeon because she never finds the time to find a reliable plug, and Jeongyeon’s really the only one who bothers to share with her.

They snort the whole line at the same time, dropping the dollar bill on the now-clean table as they look up. In less than five minutes they’re already tripping, stoned as they sit on that red couch talking about how they feel like a million dollars.

“Oh fuck, my face is numb.” Nayeon says and Jeongyeon pinches her cheek, “D’you feel that?” And then she nods off, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes before chuckling. It’s a short-lived, intense high but the sudden euphoria makes up for the lack of happiness she feels when she’s sober (she thanks Jeongyeon for allowing her to be happy even though it’s not real).

Nayeon doesn’t think about Chaeyoung, the girl doesn’t even cross her mind the whole time she’s tweaked on coke and it’s this sense of fake, ingested happiness that overcomes her and she’s smiling brighter than ever but when it wears out, when the drugs leave her system, it’s the same somberness she feels with Chaeyoung who’ll never see her as more than a roommate.

  
—

One night, Chaeyoung brings home an expensive looking bottle of champagne which she claims has been imported from Italy, handcrafted too.

“What's the occasion?” Nayeon watches the short girl trudge towards her with two tall wine glasses in hand, “One of my photos made it into Dazed Magazine!” she exclaims, plopping beside Nayeon on the sofa as she places the champagne down on the coffee table.

“Oh my god! Are you serious?” Nayeon sits up right, hands cupped over her mouth as Chaeyoung waves around a copy of the magazine, flipped to the page where Nayeon’s sitting on the very couch they're sitting on, flowers in hand as she wears bare minimum; a white tee and pink panties Chaeyoung had bought especially for that photo session. She doesn't forget to credit her muse, on the bottom corner is a space commemorated to Im Nayeon alongside a few words from Chaeyoung herself saying how she couldn't have done this without her. And that's about the sweetest thing she's ever done.

Nayeon jumps at her, pulling her into a tight bear hug as she smiles widely, her bunny teeth were a sort of charm that Chaeyoung specifically loved about her and seeing them only made the night better. She doesn't realize that she's _nearly_ sitting on Chaeyoung's lap until she feels cold hands running up her back. She jerks back almost instantly.

“Are we gonna drink that or what?” she stutters away, keeping her gaze at the bottle and Chaeyoung grabs it, popping open the cork as it shoots to the roof, landing on their carpeted floor. She pours each glass up to the brim, because it’s a much needed drink after all the hard work they’ve been through, but for Nayeon it’s just another way to drown out her thoughts.

“Hey, when I get my first paycheck from this, I’ll take you out wherever you want!” Chaeyoung says, bringing the champagne up to her lips but not before toasting with Nayeon, the glass clinks and so does her heart at the thought of sitting in a five star restaurant with Chaeyoung, call it a date or whatever you’d like.

Chaeyoung doesn’t even try to hold back with the drinking till the bottle is empty, tipped over on the floor along with Nayeon’s white blouse and jeans. She’s propped up on Chaeyoung’s lap, straddling her as she wraps her arms around the short haired girl, and Chaeyoung returns that action with her hands skimming through Nayeon’s perfectly smooth skin.

And it’s hot breaths after another as her hands map every inch of Nayeon, “Is it okay for us to be doing this?” Nayeon’s breaths are labored when she mentions consent and Chaeyoung merely nods, pressing small, wet kisses against the edge of her collarbone, trailing up her neck, to her chin, then her lips. She hesitates for a second and it takes all of Nayeon to close the bare gap between them.

Nayeon hates it. She hates how soft Chaeyoung’s lips are, how they mold perfectly into hers like they were made solely for her to use. She hates how she’s given up to her without knowing how she feels, or perhaps even fully knowing that Chaeyoung's just not in love with her the way she is.

 

—

Jeongyeon comes over and keeps her company when she hits her low, and she's just in luck because Chaeyoung's gone for the night and it's just her and Jeongyeon till dawn.

“God, Nayeon, you're in terrible shape.” she says, grabbing the girl by the shoulders, she's slumped back on the floor, leaning against the foot of the couch. Jeongyeon joins her, reclining on the red sofa as she holds Nayeon close to her, “I’m not expecting you to tell me, but I suppose it’s nothing easy because you’re the toughest, most resilient person I’ve ever come to know. It’s not easy to break down your walls.”

Jeongyeon’s right. Nayeon’s not one to let her guard down, but oh God did she let them down when Chaeyoung admitted she was her muse and respectively, the art falls in love with it’s painter.

 

_She’s breaking._

 

Jeongyeon could feel her breaking in her arms. And there’s not much she could do fix the pieces because in all terms, Chaeyoung was the only one who could. Up till now, Nayeon’s done a great job bottling up her feelings. And this goes for all the times Chaeyoung brings Mina home, and she swears they’re just friends. That kiss they had probably meant nothing, and it’s a whole lot to be feeling everything and having the other person feel nothing at all. But that’s the unbearable thing about love, which Nayeon loathes.

 

* * *

 

Chaeyoung asks her if she could accompany her for a stroll, and Nayeon, without doubt, already has her shoes on. There’s something about Chaeyoung’s wistfulness that makes Nayeon gravitate towards her, though she doesn’t mind whether it’s a conscious or subconscious thing. She’s bound to follow Chaeyoung everywhere.

“It’s spring!” she smiles, pointing towards the orchids and Nayeon smiles because she loves the way Chaeyoung’s lips stretch out to her ears. It’s almost like she’s spring for Nayeon. There’s that camera slinging around her shoulder, and it’s Nayeon’s lenses she’s using, her strap, filled with bunny stickers and pins Nayeon had specifically decorated for her. And her heart swells at this sight.

 

_“So that you won’t forget me!” she said, exhibiting Chaeyoung’s new camera strap._

 

_“I’ll never forget you.”_

 

“Who’s the flower?” Nayeon squats near the garden, and it’s filled with beautiful roses. Chaeyoung doesn’t even take time to think when she points at the only flower she’s ever come to know, “Right here.” _Nayeon._

That’s a sight she’d love to keep forever, so she does, tucked away in her camera.

  
—

When Nayeon asks her if she’s willing try something new with her, Chaeyoung hesitates for a second and then a surprising answer when she nods her head yes. Nayeon brings out six round pills, _percocet,_ and explains to Chaeyoung what potential they have.

“I haven't tried these yet but, Jeongyeon pocketed some and I bought a few off her because she said it was the best time of her life,” Nayeon's says, edging closer into Chaeyoung as they stay tucked away under her silky sheets. And Nayeon wants the best time of her life to be with Chaeyoung, “I've done some research.” She says as she watches the girl eye the pills sitting atop her palm.

Chaeyoung takes one to her own, examining the small white pill between her fingers. She runs her thumb over it, feeling the indentation of 5mg engraved into the skittle-sized pill. And then she does it. She pops it in her mouth with a hard swallow which sorta surprises Nayeon because she had been so adamant about not using drugs, what changed?

It takes longer for it to kick in than they had anticipated and so they decided to just fuck it and take the rest. And when they do, they expect to be floating right away, which doesn't happen.

“Does this thing even work?” Chaeyoung says, examining her fingers as she starts to feel anxious by the minute. And there's Pulp Fiction playing in the background and a cassette tape of the Back to the Future soundtrack on low. Nayeon shrugs lightly but then she starts to enter this dreamy state and she remembers that Jeongyeon told her it should take approximately thirty minutes for all of it to kick in but she's dosed on three 5mg pills and it's only been fifteen minutes and she's already feeling euphoric. It's a lot better of a high than coke could ever offer her.

“This feels so great, holy shit.” That's the newest thing that came out of Chaeyoung’s mouth as she glances at Nayeon, everything seemingly ten times brighter and ten times better than reality. And it only gets intense with every minute passing. _Jeongyeon's right, this is the best time of my life._

And maybe that's because Chaeyoung's talking about how grateful she is of Nayeon and how she couldn't ever see a life with her. Or maybe it's just the high. And just when they think it reaches its peak, it only gets better as they enter a lucid state of dreaming, happiness all around. Nayeon's never been happier in her entire life and she definitely feels golden.

 

Probably because it's not the percocet she's high on, it's Chaeyoung.

 

She starts to feel nauseous at some point and she's not sure if that's due to the percocet or because Chaeyoung's talking about how she's been thinking about moving in with Mina, who she previously claimed was nothing but a mere friend. The nauseating feeling only grows when the girl starts to talk about how beautiful Mina is when she's bare naked in front of her, and it's so detailed Nayeon could almost picture it through her lucidity. But she's happy, she's so fucking happy she's smiling so big and she's in Chaeyoung's arms and that makes it twenty times the high she'll ever get.

 

Until it wears out.

  
—

The next day’s a complete opposite of the previous because while Chaeyoung thanks her for the high, she also breaks her with the news that she'll be moving to Gangnam with Mina in two weeks. And that leaves no time for Nayeon to sweep up her courage and beg her to stay.

“But, what about your muse?” she asks and it almost sounds like she's joking but she's not, it's true somberness playing into her words.

Chaeyoung laughs it off and places a hand on her shoulder, “You'll always be a muse to me, but with that said, art changes.” She gives a wistful smile, “And while you're Baroque, she's Romanticism, sublime and grand.”

It was only right that her heart hit with a pang, like a boulder had just rolled off a cliff, adding more weight to her shoulders. But she smiles, and she smiles through the tears that almost glassed her eyes because she's happy for Chaeyoung but not for herself. And it dawns to her that she's only a period in Chaeyoung's life, and Chaeyoung must've gotten tired of the same expressive eyes, the same type of art. So much so that she ventured out and found something better, love.

 

* * *

 

The days unwind slowly, and Nayeon's thankful because she gets to spend her time with Chaeyoung wisely. And that's usually almost consisted of listening to classical music on Chaeyoung's vintage turntable while she sits behind the lenses, capturing candids of what used to be her muse. Nayeon loves it because it isn't your typical Mozart or Beethoven playing. It was classical but borderline romanticism and it made Nayeon sorta wish that Chaeyoung had felt that way about her. Even if it was just a blossoming start of something.

She's satisfied with they way they spend their day, her tucked in the nook of Chaeyoung's neck as the girl reads aloud her favorite World War II book, which of course was by her favorite author, Ernest Hemmingway.

“ _The Sun Also Rises_ ,” says Chaeyoung, “is a wonderful book about loving and not being loved, simply because they lacked the power to be loved.”

“How does one lack the power to be loved?” Nayeon says, ditching the hem of her shirt as she looks up at the short haired girl with round glasses. She lays on her lap and that's about the best thing to happen all day apart from Chaeyoung stroking her hair as she reads to her in a soft but husky voice.

Chaeyoung thinks about it, dropping the book on the designated page on top of the arm of the couch, and then she presses her lips into a thin line, “I think it's more like, you don't have what the person is looking for,” she says, meeting Nayeon’s curious eyes and it's like diving into a pool of percocet pills because Chaeyoung can't help but feel euphoric at the pouting girl's appearance, “Therefore, you don't have the power to be loved.”

But Nayeon does. She has the power to be loved. It's in everything she does, in everything she is. In her teeth when she smiles, in her eyes when she lies, in her hands when they subconsciously interlock with Chaeyoung's delicate fingers. It's in the way she carries herself, with her makeup and her pleated skirt. It's in the way she looks at her with those God forsaken brown eyes that Chaeyoung can't help but hold her breath when they meet between cosmos.

But it's not in the same way Nayeon holds her breath when Chaeyoung gets too close. Not in the same way her heart stutters when the girl she loves the most strokes her hair and reads to her on a lovely afternoon like this, alone on the couch they call their own.

 

It's not the same.

 

Because Chaeyoung doesn't look at her like that, doesn't talk about her like that. Not in the way she talks about Mina like she's the only star she's ever come to know. She breaks the gaze and turns back to tugging on the loose string at the hem of her shirt, “I think everyone has the power to be loved, just that the person isn't looking hard enough.”

 

And that goes for Chaeyoung. Because Chaeyoung just can't see how in love Nayeon is with her.

  
—

Chaeyoung's busy folding up the incandescent lights, throwing them off to the corner with the rest of her equipment. She'd just got done packing the last of her cameras and lights. Nayeon's sure she's gonna forget something and she almost doesn't want to remind her to check her dresser one last time before calling it a day, but she does anyways, because fate would bring them back to each other if it's really meant to be.

“Hey, make sure you check your room one last time. I'm sure you wouldn't wanna drive out all the way here again.” She's a little bitter when she says that but she's know it to be true, because Chaeyoung looks so happy to move out to Gangnam with Mina.

The girl nods and thanks her for reminding to check once more. When she enters her room, there's an eerie silence, and the emptiness makes everything echo, her footsteps and her breaths as she searches one last time.

“Nothing left!” she says as she emerges from the door frame, and Nayeon's busy basking in reality to notice the figure walking towards her, “You okay?”

Her gaze lands on Chaeyoung's mole, just under her lip and to the right. She nods, refusing to meet her in the eyes because she's afraid she'd cry right there in front of Chaeyoung who's so happy to go she's practically overflowing with excitement. Nayeon, in all terms, didn't want to be the one to ruin it for her.

“Yeah! I’m just gonna miss you is all.” That's quite a bold understatement to describe an unrequited love because missing her isn't the only reason she's feeling the way she is. It's because Chaeyoung's gonna walk out that door with her heart in her hand and bring it home to Mina in the far away city of Gangnam. And she's not sure if she'll ever return it.

Chaeyoung pulls her into a hug, and like always, despite the height difference, Nayeon melts into her, wrapping her arms around the girl's waist, resting her head on the tender but reliable shoulder.

And that's probably the last she'll ever get. Because no one could ever match up to Chaeyoung. And Chaeyoung is so cool in all her ways, listening to cassette tapes and record players and who even owns a VHS these days? But all of it comes to Nayeon in a package of loveable, sweet and caring. And it's Chaeyoung who's the pulp of her fiction and good to her fellas. And the stars in the sky when the canvas is so black no one else shines.

She watches Chaeyoung's figure retreat, the last of her belongings in her hands and Nayeon doesn't dare walk her out because she's afraid she'll only keep following. Because that's the only life she's ever come to know, _Chaeyoung._  

 

* * *

 

It’s been weeks since Chaeyoung and the bed only grew emptier with time. And it feels unusually lonely tonight. Because she's not used to being alone and so she stares at the door as if she were waiting. And that's what she's good at. _Waiting_.

Nayeon was— is always waiting. Waiting for Chaeyoung to come home, waiting for Chaeyoung to tell her it'll be okay, waiting for Chaeyoung to return her heart and tell her she loves her too. And of course some of the wait ends, but the latter’s particularly too agonizing and too painful and it's something that's set between the stars, something they whisper when they pass by each other because it'll be a whole and a half of a lifetime before Chaeyoung reciprocates that.

She sleeps in Chaeyoung's empty room, the bed springs are a lot more prominent than she last remembered them to and so sleeping’s terribly difficult, not that her loud sobs hadn't tried to stop her from getting a blink of sleep.

She wakes up in the middle of the night, cold because she ended up crying herself to sleep in Chaeyoung's strawberry cigarette aroma. She gets up, dropping her phone on her foot with a loud thud as she winces, grasping a hold of her foot before turning to retrieve the phone. Nayeon's always been clumsy, which is why Chaeyoung had always silently looked out for her, going so far as to placing safety tape on the harsh corners of the counters and tables.

She's too busy looking at her bruised foot to realize that what she grabbed wasn't her phone but a cassette tape and a folded up paper next to it on the wooden floor. It’s speckled in dust as she opens the casing, revealing a Coldplay tracklist written in Chaeyoung's handwriting. She darts towards the cassette player the latter had gifted her on her twenty-second birthday, shoving the tape inside.

It's Chaeyoung, and Chaeyoung's singing all of the Coldplay songs she had compiled into the tape and Nayeon begins to tear up at the voice. Because it feels like ten, suffering years since she last heard it and because she remembers the way the girl had sung her to sleep when insomnia came at her like a high tide on shore.

She unfolds the note and it reads:

 

Hey, I probably won't ever give this to you but I just thought I’d write it anyways, if I ever get the courage to tell you. I have so much to say that I’m not sure if I should say anything at all. Because I’m so afraid of what comes next, I’d rather sit and watch you from afar. If you've ever wondered why you wake up on your bed when you're high or drunk, it's because I take you there. And I know I have no right to touch someone like you, because I'm so out of your league and I’m not worthy of seeing you smile. But the one thing I've been struggling to tell you, even though I say it through whispers and through every morning coffee, is that I love you. And I love you so much, I’m not sure if I’m worthy of that either. I’m sorry that it took me only this long to tell you. (And I'm probably too late).

 

And it's like that Nayeon’s lungs are burning as she runs across town with the tape in one hand and the note in the other and her tears are squeezing out of her eyes because Chaeyoung loves her and she's late, she's so late and she's afraid of everything but _Chaeyoung loves her._ And nothing else matters. Because her breaths are visible in the cold spring night as she sprints in her cardigan and jeans, barefoot. And now it really does feel like she's in a desert as her lungs light fire and her throat ignites, tears, streaming down her face. 

She knocks on Chaeyoung's door, gasping for air desperately as she hovers over, hands on her wobbling knees. And the note is crumpled from her tight grip and the cassette tape is still in her hands which she struggles to rewind and repeat. Mina answers the door and she's taken aback by the sight of the crying, sobbing girl and calls Chaeyoung over. Chaeyoung rushes at the sign of concern in Mina's voice and is met with Nayeon's glassy, bloodshot eyes, “Nayeon—” She grabs the almost faltering girl by the shoulders, lifting her inside and onto an unfamiliar black sofa.

“Quick, water!” She ushers to Mina and Mina retreats somewhere behind the kitchen. Chaeyoung kneels to face the heaving girl, placing her hand on the side of her thighs, and Nayeon's still weeping as she shoves the tape and note in her hands.

“Why didn't you tell me?” She sobs and Chaeyoung takes a look at the letter, reading it with furrowing brows as she says, “What do you mean?”

“You loved me, why didn't you tell me you loved me?” She sniffles, meeting Chaeyoung's confused, perplexed eyes, “I love—”

“This isn't me, Nayeon.”

“You.” The last word falters from Nayeon's lips as her heart starts to beat in an irregular manner, skipping prolonged seconds.

“I didn't write this.” Chaeyoung says, returning the paper into the girl’s hands, “The cassette tape’s mine. It was meant for Mina but I must've dropped it somewhere. Thank you for bringing it back to me, I thought I lost it.”

Nayeon's sobbing stops because it hurts so much and there's nothing left to cry because Chaeyoung doesn't love her and Chaeyoung has never loved her. _Chaeyoung will never love her._ She sees that on the engagement band instilled on Chaeyoung's left ring finger.

 

(She later realizes that the letter belonged to Momo, who was her previous roommate before Chaeyoung. Momo loved her in the way she loves Chaeyoung and how ironic is that?)

 

The world doesn't crash for Nayeon. Not with the help of percocet. And she's high, she's so high she swears she could reach the sky and she's so happy, sitting on the red sofa, in her empty apartment. And there's Pulp Fiction in the background, Coldplay playing on low because it reminds her of Chaeyoung. And she's high, only this time she's alone.

Though the euphoria only lasts a lifetime before she sobers up and sobs into a pillow that reeked of strawberries and cigarettes, of Chaeyoung.

 

And she's reaching.

 

Maybe Chaeyoung would come back and tell her she loves her. But it's a far fetched idea that dies down as she swallows another pill of percocet.

 

Happy and alone.

**Author's Note:**

> i love you, onces


End file.
